


Misfit

by Inkandquills, writersstudy



Series: Inktober 2019 [18]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Gen, Homelessness, Missing Limbs, Motorcycle Crash, Overcoming anxiety, Social Anxiety, Yeosang is a shy bub, and they were ROOMMATES, in the first ch, in the second one, oh my god they were roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 22:37:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21088949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inkandquills/pseuds/Inkandquills, https://archiveofourown.org/users/writersstudy/pseuds/writersstudy
Summary: Inktober 2019, Day Eighteen!Prompt: MisfitGroup: ATEEZPairing: Yeosang/Hongjoong (platonic)A: Yeosang just wants a friend.M: Hongjoong never really fit in anywhere.[[PLEASE NOTE THAT WE, THE AUTHORS, HAVE NOT GIVEN PERMISSION FOR THIS WORK TO BE RE-POSTED ANYWHERE EXCEPT DIRECTLY ON AO3. IF YOU SEE THIS WORK ANYWHERE ELSE, PLEASE REPORT IT FOR COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT AND NOTIFY US AT LIVING.LENIENTLY@GMAIL.COM. THANK YOU.]]





	1. Ashlee

Yeosang had always been a quiet child. He hated loud noises and was too anxious to talk much. Throughout elementary and high school, he had been labelled as an outcast, a misfit, and left to his own devices. By the time he reached university, he had no friends and crippling fear of other people. He had attempted to convince his parents to let him get an apartment near campus, but they were insistent that he try the dorms, at least for his first year. It would be good for him, they said, to be exposed to other people in a close environment. 

Fortunately, Yeosang had arrived before his roommate. He was able to pick his preferred side of the room and set up his things exactly how he wanted before his roommate even got there. It wasn’t much. He didn’t have any decorations, just a plain bedspread and some nondescript binders on his desk. All of his clothes were hidden away in the wardrobe and everything else he owned was tucked out of the way, almost hidden.

Yeosang didn’t know a whole lot about his roommate. His name was Kim Hongjoong and he was seven months older than Yeosang and grew up just outside of Seoul, while Yeosang was from the eastern coast. Hongjoong had sent him an email just after they’d received their housing assignments, telling Yeosang about himself. Yeosang had been too anxious to send a reply. There was nothing really important that Hongjoong needed to know about him anyway.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay until he gets here?” Yeosang’s mother asked, fussing over her son.

“Eomma,” Yeosang whined, “I promise I’ll be fine. You staying will just make me even more anxious than meeting him on my own.” She huffed, but eventually agreed to leave. Once his parents were gone, Yeosang had no idea what to do. He sat on the edge of his bed, playing a game on his phone as he waited for Hongjoong to arrive.

The older boy didn’t get there until it was nearly evening and Yeosang could hear him before he saw him. He could hear chattering down the hallway and keys jingling in the door.

“Oh, you must be Yeosang!” the blue haired boy said brightly, sticking his hand out, “I’m Hongjoong. It’s nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Yeosang mumbled shyly, shaking Hongjoong’s hand. His face flushed bright red. Hongjoong just grinned and bounced toward his own side of the room. He and his mother chattered as they set up. Occasionally, they would try to include Yeosang in the conversation, but his quiet one word answers often went unheard as they bounced from topic to topic. He didn’t even notice Mrs. Kim preparing to leave until Hongjoong popped up in front of him, startling him so badly that he nearly dropped his phone on the floor.

“Do you wanna go get dinner with me?” his roommate asked, nodding toward the door. Yeosang had to eat at some point, so he nodded shyly and hopped off the bed. He would rather go with someone he sort of knew instead of wandering around alone. At least Hongjoong seemed confident enough to act like he knew what he was doing.

The walk to the dining hall was a quick one and they were soon seated with food in front of them. Hongjoong kept talking even as he ate. He would ask Yeosang questions that seemed to be rhetorical, as he’d bounce off to the next one before Yeosang even got the chance to answer. The younger boy picked at his food, resigning himself to yet another year of being an outcast.

Over the next few weeks, he and Hongjoong settled into a routine of sorts. Yeosang would sit on his bed and do homework, humming along as Hongjoong babbled, sometimes to him and sometimes to the friends he would bring over. They were all kind and always invited Yeosang to hang out with them, but he always declined. Said hangouts usually involved alcohol or a party, neither of which were Yeosang’s speed. He just wanted to keep his head down and get through school. Yeosang was a computer design major, which meant he spent a lot of time on his laptop with headphones on, figuring out where his code was going wrong. Hongjoong, on the other hand, was a literature and theatre double major, loud and proud. Yeosang somehow ended up in a group chat with him and all of his friends, but he never said anything. 

One night, the agreed hangout location was in his and Hongjoong’s dorm. Yeosang hadn’t technically agreed to said arrangement, but he hadn’t protested either, so he couldn’t really complain. Thankfully, no one forced him to drink any alcohol, so he just sat on his bed with a cup of water, watching the rest of them get drunk. At some point, someone suggested truth or dare and, feeling brave, Yeosang agreed to join in. He wasn’t quite brave enough to choose dare, so he would choose truth every time the empty beer bottle pointed to him. 

“Yeosangie!” Hongjoong cried when it landed on him yet again, “you want a truth right? Alright, who’s your best friend?” It was a simple question, but Yeosang bit his lip, hesitating on answering.

“I don’t have one,” he said finally, voice small, “I don’t have any friends.”

“Well, we’re your friends!” Hongjoong said encouragingly.

“Are you?” It slipped out before Yeosang could stop it and it made everyone freeze.

“What do you mean? Of course we are!” Hongjoong said, the smile on his face only growing brighter.

“I mean, you don’t really ever talk with me,” Yeosang said shyly, “and all of the activities you ever invite me to is stuff that you know I’m not comfortable doing. You don’t have to try and pretend that we’re friends, Hongjoong. I know that we’re not.” The room was deathly still. To his credit, Hongjoong didn’t let the smile on his face fade.

“Should we play a different game?” he asked finally. The rest of his friends exchanged glances and, one by one, made excuses to leave. Yeosang felt bad. This was why he never talked to people. He always fucked it up. Now Hongjoong was sad and all of his friends felt awkward.

“Do you really think that?” Hongjoong asked once everyone was gone. Yeosang bit his lip but didn’t deny it.

“We talk all the time!” the older boy insisted. Yeosang shook his head.

“You talk and expect me to listen. You ask me questions and don’t even give me time to answer,” he said, “I mean, do you even know my major? Where I’m from? My last name?”

“Your last name is Kang,” Hongjoong said defensively, before mumbling, “it’s in your email address.” Yeosang huffed. 

“I was trying to be accommodating,” Hongjoong said, wiping his cheeks, “I can tell it’s hard for you to open up to people, so I never wanted to push. And honestly, I kinda figured you had your own friend group that you hung out with whenever you’re not here. I didn’t realize that you’re just...on your own.”

“It’s not your fault,” Yeosang said quietly, “I’ve never had friends. I was always so shy and anxious that anyone who tried would just give up. And I’m used to it. I almost prefer it, y’know? My mom had to literally force me to live in the dorms this year, because I would’ve just been a hermit on my own otherwise.” Hongjoong pouted. 

“Everyone deserves friends,” he said sadly, “it hurts me to think that you’ve been all alone with no one to listen to your troubles.”

“You haven’t been listening to my troubles either,” Yeosang reminded him, making Hongjoong wince.

“I’m gonna be better,” the older boy promised, “you’ll see. I’ll be the best damn friend you’ve ever had.” To Yeosang’s surprise, he actually kept his word. He would invite Yeosang to lunch with his friends, rather than to parties, and make sure that the younger boy was heard when he tried to speak. He downloaded a conversation starter app on his phone and used it to get Yeosang to open up about himself and his world view. He even convinced Yeosang to sign up for a class where his grade would depend on him being able to talk. True to his word, Hongjoong became Yeosang’s closest friend, someone he could truly begin to rely on. His mother nearly cried when he told her that he had actually become friends with his roommate.

As the end of the semester crew nearer, Yeosang found himself actually dreading going home. He didn’t want to be on his own again. Not only had he become close with Hongjoong but with the rest of his friends as well and he was going to miss all of them when he had to go back to Pohang for a month. 

Hongjoong went with Yeosang to the train station to send him off. It was a three hour train ride and Yeosang was going to be miserable and pouty the entire time.

“You promise you’ll text me?” he asked, voice muffled from where his mouth was shoved against Hongjoong’s coat. He could practically feel the older boy rolling his eyes.

“Yes, Yeosangie, I promise I’ll text you,” he said, “and call you, and FaceTime you, and send you a Christmas gift. Who knows, maybe I’ll even come visit.”

“You would do that?” Yeosang asked with a gasp, finally looking up. Hongjoong nodded.

“Gotta make sure your mom knows you didn’t make me up,” he quipped, making Yeosang flush.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. Behind him, the train blew a warning whistle and Yeosang finally stepped back and grabbed his bag. Waving to Hongjoong, he stepped onto the train and found a seat by the window. The train pulled out of the station and Yeosang felt a buzz in his pocket.

**From: Joong**

Travel safe, Yeosangie! I miss you already!


	2. Michelle

Hongjoong had lived on his own for as long as he could remember. He didn’t even remember what his parents looked like. But none of that mattered now. He was hundreds of miles away from home, if he could even call it that, and he had no intentions of going back. He hopped from town to town finding any work he could until the inevitably kicked him out. Which was where he was at now, riding his motorbike through the night in search of the next town. Hongjoong never stayed in one place for more than a few weeks but it didn’t bother him anymore. The cold air whipped at his face and blew through his hair. His goggles, that he had made for himself, sat over his eyes protecting him from the wind, not that he could even see that far in front of him. Unfortunately that meant that he didn’t see the large rock sitting directly in his path until he hit it. The force caught Hongjoong by surprise and he got thrown from his bike. He landed on the ground with a groan, throwing his hands out to protect himself. His bike twisted to the side falling to the ground a mere few inches from his ankle. Hongjoong took a moment to catch his breath before pushing himself to sit up. He didn’t feel any searing pain and he was grateful nothing was broken. After he was sure he was okay, he stood up and went to inspect his bike. As he reached for it, he caught a glimpse of his hands in the moonlight. His left wrist was a little sore and his palm was scratched up but nothing too bad. His right however took a lot more damage. The dull metal was crushed at the palm and the first three fingers were twisted backwards. No wonder Hongjoong didn’t feel any pain. With a tired sigh, he pulled off his goggles so he could see better and tried to bend the fingers back. No matter how hard he tugged on them, they weren’t budging. Eventually he gave up and unfastened the leather straps that held his hand against his forearm. He rubbed over the raw skin, hopefully it wouldn’t bleed too much. If there was one thing Hongjoong was proud of, it was how well he was able to function with just one hand. He had been missing his right had for as long as he could remember. If he was born without it or lost it in an accident, he didn’t know, but none of that mattered. He shoved the metal hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and started looking at his bike. At this point the sun was slowly starting to poke over the mountains and over a bit more light for him to see. He pulled the bike upright but the front wheel was twisted on its axel and already starting to deflate. He was going to have to scrape together some money in the next town if he had any hopes at fixing his bike. But for now it looked like he was walking. 

“Hey, are you lost?” a voice suddenly called out from behind him. Hongjoong jumped and dropped his bike with a quiet curse. He whipped around to find a boy that couldn’t be any older than he was standing behind him.

“No,” Hongjoong replied honestly. He didn’t miss the boy’s eyes flick down to his wrist.

“Who are you?” he asked, pulling the boy’s eyes back up to meet his.

“Yeosang,” the boy replied, “I live right at the edge of this town and I heard you crash your bike. I wanted to come make sure everything was okay.” Hongjoong sighed and turned back around to pick up his bike again.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Hongjoong replied. That wasn’t entirely true. 

“You haven’t told me your name yet,” Yeosang pointed out.

“It’s Hongjoong. Now is there anything else? I really do need to get going,” the older boy said.

“Where are you going?” Yeosang asked, falling into step next to Hongjoong.

“Wherever I can earn some money to fix my bike,” Hongjoong replied. He wasn’t sure why he was revealing so much to Yeosang. Maybe it was because he hadn’t talked with someone his own age in so long. 

“You’re not going to be able to work anywhere with your hand,” Yeosang said. Hongjoong scoffed.

“I’ll be fine,” he said flatly.

“Why don’t you just come with me? I can help you with your hand and I can even take a look at your bike. None of the shops are even open yet. You’re not going to be able to talk to anyone about work until later,” Yeosang offered. Hongjoong was about to refuse but the younger boy had a point. He would be stuck wandering the streets for the next few hours and that certainly wouldn’t get him anywhere. 

“Fine,” he agreed begrudgingly. He didn’t miss the way Yeosang seemed to perk up. The younger boy led him to his home, rambling about all the people that lived throughout the town and what all of them did for work. Hongjoong wasn’t focused enough to pay attention to all of it but he tried to remember what shops Yeosang said could use workers. 

“Leave your bike in here and I’ll look at it later,” the younger boy instructed, pointing to the garage that sat a little ways away from his house. Hongjoong reluctantly left his motorcycle next to the others that Yeosang had collected and followed the boy inside. The house was small, only a few rooms, but it was very tidy.

“You live alone?” Hongjoong asked, curiosity getting the better of him. 

“Yep. My parents left this apartment to me when they moved into the city,” Yeosang explained. He gestured for Hongjoong to sit at the table and filled a glass of water for him. Hongjoong took the water gratefully and downed the whole thing in one go. It had been so long since he had fresh water, he forgot how refreshing it could be. Yeosang refilled the glass before grabbing another chair and pulling it up next to Hongjoong. 

“Can I see your arm?” he asked. Hongjoong grabbed the glass again and held our his right arm to Yeosang. The boy examined it, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“Where did all these marks come from?” Yeosang asked. He stood from the table to wet a washcloth.

“From the straps that hold my hand on,” Hongjoong said as Yeosang ducked into the bathroom. He pulled his broken hand out of his pocket and set it on the table. Yeosang came back and glanced at the hand. 

“That’s much too small for you,” he said.

“It is not,” Hongjoong said defensively. He tried to pull his arm away but Yeosang grabbed him before he could get far. 

“Well the straps are obviously too tight if they are cutting into your skin like this,” Yeosang countered. He gently cleaned the dried blood off of Hongjoong’s arm and spread some salve on it. Next he grabbed the hand off of the table and examined it.

“How old is this?” Yeosang asked, beginning to manipulate the fingers. Within no time he had the first one back in its original position and was working on the second.

“Five or six years?” Hongjoong said uncertainly. Yeosang hummed and snapped the second finger back into place. They didn’t bend that smoothly yet but he could fix that too.

“Where did you get it?” Yeosang asked next. Hongjoong chuckled wryly.

“I stole it. Not the first thing and I’m sure it won’t be the last,” he replied, “but how did you fix that so quickly?” Yeosang snapped the last finger into place and placed the hand on the table again. 

“Magic,” he said with a small smile. Hongjoong rolled his eyes and picked up his hand.

“Are you okay going without it for a few days? I think you should let your wrist heal first and let me get you some straps that won’t chew up your wrist first,” Yeosang said. He grabbed a can of oil and handed it to Hongjoong.

“I don’t really need it at all,” Hongjoong said as he oiled all of the joints, “but I’m able to work a lot faster when its on.” When he was done he set the oil can down and tried each finger. He reveled in how easily the joints bent now. If it wasn’t for the dent in his palm you would have never known his hand was broken.

“How long are you planning on staying here?” Yeosang asked quietly.

“Until I get kicked out or get tired of being here,” Hongjoong replied.

“And where are you going to stay until then?” Yeosang asked next. Hongjoong shrugged.

“I’ll find a quiet alley near wherever I end up working. No sense in wasting money on a place when I won’t be staying that long,” Hongjoong said.

“You could stay here,” Yeosang offered tentatively, “there’s no sense in you staying out on the street and I’ve always wanted a roommate.” Hongjoong’s eyes widened. 

“Stay here? With you? No, no, I couldn’t,” he stuttered weakly.

“It doesn’t have to be permanent. I have plenty of room and I’ll be able to fix your bike a lot easier if it’s here,” Yeosang offered. Hongjoong wanted to keep refusing but this boy was the first person who had shown him this much kindness since he was a little kid. How could he not take advantage of that? It didn’t hurt that Yeosang was quite adorable when he smiled.

“Ok, I’ll stay,” he agreed quietly. Yeosang beamed. 

“I know there’s not much room but let me show you the rest of the house. And then I’ll show you around town,” he said excitedly. Before he could register what was going on, Hongjoong was being dragged around the house and then out the door towards down. For the first time in as long as he could remember, Hongjoong was happy to stay just where he was. 


End file.
